March 20, 2007

A Conversation with the Household Pests

Not to dwell on the mouse sighting, but I can’t help but replay the mouse sighting over and over again in my head. Here’s how it went.

It was broad daylight (aren’t they only supposed to come out at night?). The bitchier of the two cats and the bitchier of the two adults were but three feet away in the kitchen. The mouse kind of just sauntered around like it owned the place. I wouldn’t even go so far as to say it scurried. Scurried implies actual speed.

At first, my cat just looked confused. Like this:

Cat: ...?

Mouse: What are you looking at?

Cat: OMG, are you a mouse?

Mouse:What does it look like?

Cat: This is so exciting. Okay, okay, wait a minute…I’ve rehearsed this. (Hums a few notes, then starts singing.) Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me, M-I-C-K-…

But, then I realized I had misinterpreted. There was definitely something else going on. Something slightly more diabolical. They were in cahoots. This is more like what was actually said:

Mouse:What’s your problem?

Cat:We had a deal.

Mouse: A great big zeppole rolled under the stove. I can’t let that go.

Cat: Well, then maybe run a little faster.

Mouse: I’m full.

Cat: At least look scared.

Mouse:You didn’t even move. Plus, I’m conserving energy. You may get your meals for free, but some of us have to work for a living.

Cat: Quick, the Boss is looking. Cower in fear.

Mouse: Like this?

Cat:Could you stop chewing, though? And where’s my half?

Mouse:Same as always.

Cat: All right, then…

Me:Get that mouse, Sidney. Git him.

(Cat’s tail puffs out. Mouse disappears under the radiator cover. Cat takes one step, then collapses into a corpulent heap.)

Me: So, that’s it? This is what I pay you for?

(Cat starts purring.)

Me: You better watch your back, Sidney. Next time, they’re coming for you. And when they do, I’m co-signing the loan on the crane.

TrackBack

Comments

Well, maybe I chould come over and do the cat's job for you, once a mouse came out in my parent's kitchen, saw me and died instantaneously. You can imagine my Dad's mirth and how I had to suffer for years. But it was handy.

Oh, jeez, Ilva!! And I thought I wanted to be friends with you. :D
So, Tammy. Mice are cute. I mean it. Have you had a family of rats in your attic? That's not cute. Oh, not cute.
And with no cat to dispatch them, we had to use the trap and the peanut butter. Snap. Ick. Times seven.